


Waves Upon A Shore

by geckoholic



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Female Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4187775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoholic/pseuds/geckoholic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Kiza is the child of two very different worlds. She came to terms with that a long time ago, although there are instances when it still gives her pause. Discovering royalty in her front yard sure is one of them.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waves Upon A Shore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fenellaevangela](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenellaevangela/gifts).



> One of your prompts was wanting to see how Kiza's and/or Jupiter's lives changed after the movie. This is... sort of that. :)
> 
> Beta-read by andibeth82, who isn't really in this fandom but volunteered nevertheless. You're the greatest. ♥ All remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> Title is from "11:59" by Ryan Star.

Kiza is the child of two very different worlds. She came to terms with that a long time ago, although there are instances when it still gives her pause. Discovering royalty in her front yard sure is one of them; her father disappearing onto a spaceship, leaving her a message via holographic projection, and coming back reinstated and with a new set of wings is another.

But Kiza has learned to readjust. She’ll get used to both eventually.

 

***

 

Two days after her father leaves for his first mission back with the Skyjackers, Kiza gets torn away from studying for her chemistry exam by a knock on the front door. She frowns and puts the book aside; they don’t get many visitors out here.

When she opens the door, she’s presented with Jupiter Jones, smoothing imagined wrinkles out of her shirt sleeve and smiling like a little kid that’s been sent to the neighbor’s house to apologize for smashing in a window. “I’m sorry. Did I interrupt you or something? I didn’t mean to intrude, I was just – “

“You didn’t, don’t worry,” Kiza lies, feeling rather awkward herself. She steps aside, gesturing for Jupiter to come inside. “Uh. Your majesty.”

Jupiter cringes. “Please don’t call me that. Call me Jupiter. Or Jupe. Either’s fine, just, no titles.” She looks around the house as she follows Kiza into the living room. Presented with the remainders of the havoc wrecked when she got taken into space, she grimaces slightly. “Oh god, I forgot. I’m so sorry. I’ll pay for everything, I promise.”

“If Dad lets you,” Kiza replies.” This place wasn’t the Hilton go begin with; we’re fine as long as everything’s functional, and a few bolted windows aren’t the end of the world. He’s too proud to accept help from anyone.”

“It wouldn’t be _helping_ so much as _paying for damages_.” Jupiter reaches out to right an askew picture on the wall, smiles apologetically when it falls to the ground instead. “Anyway. Not why I'm here. I wanted to give you this.” 

She produces a vial, filled with an iridescent green liquid, from her pocket and holds it out to Kiza. There's a sigil and some writing on it, both of which practically scream _from space_. Kiza hesitates, reaches out then pulls her hand back. “Is this...?” 

“Yes, it's medicine. For you.” She wriggles the vial a little. “Your father helped save me and my family. It's the least I can do.” 

Kiza knows better than to ask where it's from, what it's made of; she can't feel bad about anything she doesn't know, and she's not selfless enough to decline a chance at being healthy, having a chance to live past thirty, on moral grounds. “Thank you.” 

After she takes the vial, Jupiter nods. “Okay. So now that's done, uhm, I'll be on my way.” 

When she was a little girl, Kiza fantasized about space princesses like other children would about Snow White and Cinderella. The woman who's standing in her living room now, scratching the back of her head and adjusting her pony tail in a gesture that telegraphs uncertainty with several exclamation marks, _is_ a space princess. But she's also a girl just a few years older than Kiza whose world has been turned upside down and given a good shake, and who doesn't have anyone to talk about it save for an old grump and a winged soldier boyfriend from outer space. 

“You know,” she says as Jupiter turns to leave. “I was gonna sit down with a bowl of popcorn and _Space Balls_ on DVD.” Technically, it's not even a lie; she was gonna do that after studying. Sci-Fi parodies are extra funny compared to what's _really_ out there, at least to Kiza. “If you want, you can stay and we can watch it together?” 

Jupiter shifts her stance, shoulders falling back, and for the first time since she stepped into the house her answering smile looks genuine and relaxed. “Oh man, yes. I'd love that.” 

 

***

 

The worker drones show up the same day her dad comes back from his mission. He's early; they were supposed to be done before his return, but that's intergalactic travel for you: about as predictable as the public bus schedule. 

Only minutes pass before he starts to swat at the little robots, huffs when they evade him without missing a beat. “Who does she think she is?!” 

“Someone who owed us, and who wanted to make things right,” Kiza says calmly. “That's who she thinks she is. I know you disagree, but she means well.” 

His eyes narrow. “You _knew_ about this.” 

And yes, well, Kiza told him that Jupiter came by, and she told him about the medicine and how well it's worked, but she did not, with good reason, tell him that Jupiter promised to take care of the repairs or that her and Kiza have been hanging out roundabout twice a week since then. Kiza may have been raised on the social system of space as well as the one on earth, but her dad's _lived_ it. His half-splice child hanging out with an Entitled falls into the category of _topics better not be brought up via holographic messages_. But. Now or never. 

“She's actually really nice. We've been spending some time together while you were gone, and – “

“You're making friends with an _Abrasax_?” The heights his voice climbs to on the last word makes it hard for her not to giggle. He's all bark and no bite with her, always has been. “Tell me you're joking.” 

Kiza comes up behind him, hugging and holding his arm down as he attempts to flick another one of the drones away, and kisses his cheek. “I'm not. You might want to acquaint yourself with the idea that your daughter has friends in high places now.” 

“Alright. Fine.” He gives a deep, long-suffering sigh that borders on theatrical and turns his head so he can glare. “Besides, it's not like you ever listened to me when it came to picking your friends, so why start now.” 

 

***

 

Kiza's social circle has always been rather tiny. There was her dad, and her mother for a time, and the few friends who she managed to keep for a time in school. She'd only even been able to go to school because her mother was a Tersie; she had a birth certificate with a blank space where the father’s name goes, but she did have one. She exists in the system. Jupiter does not, and that's why her family, as Kiza learns, tends to be wary around new people. Everyone knowing they're illegal is one more person with the power to rat them out. Once they've convinced themselves that's not an immediate risk, though, what follows is a rather thorough process of assimilation. 

If she's around for a meal, she's expected to eat with them. They're loud and full of heart, they don't hold back on the Russian in her company, despite Jupiter's uncle's continued nagging to _speak English at this table, for chrissake, does anyone ever listen to me_ , and she quickly picks up some words and phrases here and there – not enough to be conversational yet, but sufficient to volley back a comment every once in a while and laugh at dirty jokes. Kiza know she's made it fully into the inner circle the day Vladie tries to whisk her away and involve her in one of his schemes; she's rescued by Aleksa, who curses him out so emphatically Kiza doesn't have to understand all the words to get the meaning, and continues to do so until long after he's out of earshot. 

She sits Kiza down at the kitchen table and shoves a cup of coffee into her hand, studies her intently, and suddenly Kiza suspects she'd have been better off listening to Vladie build his castles in the clouds. 

“There's something going on with my daughter,” Aleksa starts, expression unreadable, and she holds up a hand when Kiza opens her mouth to deny it. “Don't you dare tell me otherwise. A mother knows these things. My Jupiter, she's different.” 

Kiza tries her best not to wince. Even if she were to type to rat out her friends, which she's not, she wouldn't know how to _begin_ explaining what happened during the past months. She decides to evade. “I haven't known her for long, I wouldn't know – “ 

Aleksa waves the hand that's still up in the air in front of Kiza. “I don't expect you to tell me. You girls would rather swallow your tongues than tell me what's happening. Nino and me, were the same when we were young. I know.” Waiting for the punchline, Kiza keeps silent, and Aleksa continues. “You just promise me, you look after her. Make sure she won't get into too much trouble. Look after her when I can't.” 

For a moment, Kiza entertains the thought that Aleksa _knows_ , somehow, the instinct of a mother giving her knowledge of things she shouldn't be able to remember, overriding whatever space science is used to keep regular Tersies in the dark. But of course that wouldn't be possible. “I will,” she says. “I promise.” 

“Good,” replies Aleksa, crossing her arms in front of her chest and eying her for a moment as if she were able to determine Kiza's honesty from staring at her face. Eventually she seems satisfied, swivels around, reaches up to open one of the cupboards, and comes back with a box of cookies that's got Cyrillic print on it and looks like it's roughly Jupiter's age. Kiza takes one, stuffs it into her mouth, smiles as she chews, and accepts it as the fraternization offering she assumes it to be. 

 

***

 

Hardly a week later, Kiza gets an opportunity to make good on her promise to Aleksa. She’s in the Bolotnikov’s living room with Jupiter when they hear a ring on the front door. They’re not alone, no one ever is in this house. But they’re closest to the door, get there first, and it’s a good thing too. Because the courier they open the door to is _definitely_ not from this earth. He did his level best, it looks like, but still stands out like a sore thumb, fur around his hairline and cat ears included. A blinking neon sign that says “space alien” in big, red letters with an arrow pointing down would have been less suspicious.

Jupiter curses and slips outside, lets Kiza follow before she shuts the door and crosses her arms in a gesture that makes her look disturbingly like her mother, glaring him down. “Whoever you are, you better have a damn good explanation for showing up here.”

The poor thing scrambles to fish something out of his bag, eyes flitting back and forth between Jupiter’s death glare and the bundle of envelopes he’s riffling through until he seems to find the right one and holds it out to Jupiter.

“This is, uh. An invitation,” he stammers. ”I have been instructed to hand it to you personally.”

Jupiter continues to stare at him like she’d much rather have his head on a plate, but she takes the envelope and peers inside, then opens it all the way and unearths one of those… well, space tablets, is the only way Kiza knows how to describe them. She reads, then huffs and hands it to Kiza.

It’s an invitation alright. For dinner. In a space palace. With Kalique Abrasax.

The feline courier clears his throat, and Kiza and Jupiter look up in unison. “ _What else?_ ” Jupiter demands, and he actually flinches.

“I need your, ah, confirmation. For the delivery. If you could just place your sigil here,” and with that he produces another table and holds it out,” so I can scan it?”

Jupiter gapes at him, but then she sighs and does as he asks. The second she takes her hand away, he dissolves into a ray of blue light and disappears from her porch. She looks at Kiza. “Guess we have plans on Friday, then. I mean, if you want. I’m going to take Caine, of course, but the more friendly faces, the better?”

Kiza nods. Her father is going to have a heart attack when she tells him she’s going into _space_ to have _dinner_ with _another Abrasax_ , but he’ll just have to deal.

 

***

 

Space residences, Kiza has to admit that much, are pretty damn impressive. So is space fashion. They’ve been given dresses to wear upon arrival, and Kiza’s is a bright yellow shot throw with beige and white, fits her like a glove, and looks far more stunning than anything she’s seen on earth _ever_. She trails after Jupiter and Caine and has to remind herself on every other step not to just stand there and marvel at her surroundings. Her father has described space to her many times, but he’s no poet and the real thing probably couldn’t even be put into words.

The atmosphere at dinner reminds her a little of the rare times her grandparents came to visit when her mother was still alive; neither party likes the other and is perfectly aware they know this. There’s polite smiles and awkward conversation, an occasional jab that goes ignored but not unnoticed, and by the time desert is served Kiza stopped caring for how _gorgeous_ space is and just desperately wants to go home.

After the dishes have been taken away, Kalique leans back in her chair and folds her hands in her lap. “I have to say, I admire your bravery. I don’t understand it, and it’ll mean nothing in the long run, but I admire it all the same.”

The words say _compliment_ , but the tone of her voice betrays more dubious intentions. Kiza watches Jupiter’s eyes narrow before she replies.

“Do I want to know what exactly you mean by that?”

“No reason to be rude.” Kalique shakes her head and tsks. “I think it’s admirable how you stick to your ideals, vow to refuse Regenex and dare to show up to an official invitation with not one but _two_ splices for company. But you’re not going to change anything. You’ll be dead within a blink, and it’s not like you’re likely to have heirs if you stick with your current, ah, how do I put it… romantic choice.”

During the last sentence, she glances to Caine, who growls at her, only placated when Jupiter puts her hand on his knee under the table. She looks confused, but not upset; at this point, Kiza figures, her so-called family’s antics make her angry rather than afraid. She looks at Kiza, then at Caine, and pushes her chair back. They both do the same, and the three of them head off and towards the docking area without another word.

 

***

 

They’re spending the evening at Kiza’s – both her father and Caine shipped out back to space the day before – and sometime in the middle of _Galaxy Quest_ , Jupiter turns away from the screen to look at Kiza, her expression thoughtful. 

“Do you know what she meant? At dinner? That remark about heirs and my _romantic choice_?”

Kiza expected that question ever since they got back from Kalique’s palace, even though she hoped she wouldn’t have to be the one who has to answer it, that Jupiter would ask Caine instead. She shifts, folder her legs underneath in attempt to stall so she can pick her words better. “Splices aren’t supposed to have families. There are safety measures in place to make sure they won’t.”

Jupiter nods, but seems calm, like she expected something along those lines. “Stinger had you.”

“I was an accident,” Kiza explains. “Splices are supposed to be infertile. But it’s not a hundred percent; some of them do manage to have children, and as a safety measure, splicers weave genetic diseases into their gene codes. Second generation splice children usually don’t survive their first week. Mixed children have a better chance, but even those –“

“Your lung disease, was that one of those _safety_ measures?” Jupiter asks, and by now she looks positively miserable.

“Yes. And I got lucky, considering.” As a child, her mother went as far as calling Kiza her little miracle, always earning a frown from her father; he said she was tempting fate. She died before Kiza first became sick. Suddenly Kiza wants to tell her friend everything she remembers about her mother, but… not tonight. It’ll only make things worse.

“I never thought about children, whether I want to have them. Guess now I won’t have to make that decision,” Jupiter says after a few moments of mutual silence, and Kiza can’t think of anything useful to reply. Instead she inches closer, patting her knee, and Jupiter gets the hint, lies down to place her head on Kiza’s thigh.

They go back to watching the movie, but none of the jokes find an audience for the rest of the night.

 

***

 

The dinner isn't the last time Kiza goes to space with Jupiter and Caine. It's not the last time she sees things that happen there break her friend's heart. For all that she grew up knowing about it, it's a strange new world to her too – fascinating and amazing but cruel. People keep thinking they can pull one other on the young recurrence with the weird ideas and sometimes they succeed. Others use her lack of knowledge about space politics against her, give her the runaround, and some try to hurt her through her less-than-standard friends. Neither of them are familiar with the playbook just yet, and figuring it out doesn't come without setbacks. 

But Kiza has learned to readjust. And this time, neither her nor Jupiter have to do it alone.


End file.
